The Apartment Laundry Phenomenon

Doing laundry here at an apartment complex is highly awkward. Highly.

So I put my load of mostly unmentionables in the dryer, came back to the apartment and set the timer on the microwave. The timer beeped, I grabbed my laundry basket and headed down the hall to the laundry room...only to find my clothes thrown onto the table near the dryers.

While I sheepishly shoved my clothes into my basket, all I could think about were the grubby hands that had the privilege to touch my underwear. Without my freaking permission. Eww to the max, man.

I felt like I was doing the "walk of shame" all the way down the hallway. Hoping the culprit wouldn't see me and take some perverse pleasure in knowing whose underwear s/he just groped. Bah, totally lame.

But in the end I felt triumphant. My 2nd load in the washer finished just as that same dryer came to an end. I had the bad karmatic pleasure of placing their items on the table of shame.

How low I have stooped in such a short amount of time. Not necessarily low for putting their clothes on the table, but low due to the pleasure I took in doing so.

Bwahaha, suck it loony launderers.